


Hunting Lessons

by orphan_account



Category: Twin Mask
Genre: Gen, LARP, Original Characters - Freeform, Original Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:15:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23131543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	Hunting Lessons

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Meeshdragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meeshdragon/gifts).



Hunting is an elegant concept.

Something more powerful seeks out something less powerful, takes what it wants, and then leaves the rest for scavengers when it has no more use for the carrion. It’s an easy enough plot to follow, but one so ingrained in the turning of the Earth that it is impossible to escape.

The original three act structure:

  1. Hunt
  2. Kill
  3. Aftermath



An unspoken, never-ending story that drives all of existence, the one that sets us on our path, differentiating protector from prey, ensuring that only the strongest bloodlines will survive.

This is the natural order and it will not be denied.

\---------------------------------------------

Dewey dangled her feet off of the edge of the docks, pant legs rolled up, toes skimming the surface of the water, absorbing as much of the late afternoon sunshine as she possibly could. Being able to enjoy a calm moment like this was a rarity in Port Frey. It seemed like every time she turned around, something was trying to kill her or her friends or just… the town in general.

In a different story, this trend may have begged the question:

“Which God Did Port Frey Piss Off?”

But, really, everyone already knew the answer to that question was “All Of Them,” so it seemed a little silly to keep worrying about the larger existential threat that loomed over their little town, especially when there were so many smaller threats right in front of you to choose from, often with the added bonus of having twice as many teeth and at least one sword a piece.

And given the lack of any many toothed, sword wielding threats at this exact moment, Dewey was just trying to close her eyes and enjoy some peace.

Which, of course, meant that it was high time for the Universe to send something to try to eat her.

If the little bug had kept her wits about her, she might have noticed a dark, tendril-like shadow as it passed under the dock. If she’d been practicing the kind of constant vigilance she kept saying she needed to implement into her daily habits, she might have heard the gentle creak of the dock as it buckled under an experimental tug. And really, if she’d just bothered to keep her eyes open, she would have seen a thorny looking, yellow eyed creature poke out of the deep, scan the waterline for something to eat, and make the quick and simple decision that bug meat was a  _ very  _ good source of protein.

All of this meant that Dewey, who was busily wondering why sunlight was warm and moonlight was cold instead of wondering why all of the birds around her had stopped chirping, was caught completely off guard when a thin, slimy tendril curled around her ankle and gave it a swift yank.

Dewey screamed as she was pulled in, her lungs immediately, painfully filling with water, struggling against the thing that had her grappled, body slamming into the current as it rapidly towed her out past the point of no return.

And then, something else grabbed her.

A slim hand caught her around one wrist and pulled, muttering words Dewey could barely make out. The water flooded with blood, so much blood, dispersing in curling crimson clouds through the muddy green that surrounded her. Her blood? Someone else’s?

She fought to take another breath and ended up inhaling more water, the salty sweet flavor of iron flooding through her nose and mouth as the two creatures played tug of war with her limbs.

A flash of light sparked overhead and something let out an inhuman cry of pain from within the murky depths and then Dewey felt herself being hauled up and out of the water by her wrists until she was nose to snout with Ki.

“Good Hunting, Dewey.” The dragon-blooded purred out the words, smiling a little, amused as the tiny bug hacked the last of the water out of her lungs, heaving in so much air that it hurt. “Shall we find you some dry land, little one?”

Without waiting for a response, Ki slung Dewey over her shoulder, carrying her the way she might carry a freshly killed buck, and waded back to shore. She gently plopped Dewey on the bank and gave her a swift pat on the back to help dislodge the rest of the water.

“This is a little better, no?”

Dewey nodded, thrilled at finally being able to breathe and then flopped backwards onto the ground.

“What  _ was _ that??” The half-fae’s voice rang a little thin with stress.

Ki just shrugged, seemingly unfazed by the whole ordeal. “The waters keep many secrets. Some of them have tentacles. Do not let yourself be bothered by this.”

Dewey propped herself up on her elbows and undid her bow tie with one hand. “Something tried to kill me and I’m not s’posed to be  _ bothered _ ?”

“Tell me, little one, have you ever hunted for your food?”

“Once or twice. ‘m not very good at it…”

Ki grinned at that. “This does not surprise me… How about this: To thank me for this kindness I have bestowed upon you, we will hunt. Tomorrow at dawn. And then you will tell me if you are still bothered by the tentacles?”

Dewey considered this for a moment before slowly nodding. “Dawn it is.”

“Wonderful!” Ki clapped her hands together. “I will see you at the trails! Do not be late, little one.” And then she picked herself up and dusted herself off and disappeared into the forest.

Dawn came at the same time it always did, which was  _ always _ a little too early. A gentle fog was rolling in off the water and through the streets of the Port, seeping into every corner it could find, saturating everything in a cold, overcast light, causing the still sleeping residents to pull their blankets a little further around their bodies, warding themselves from the chill.

Even so, Dewey made her way through the dim, winding paths towards Ki’s hunting trails.

When she arrived, Ki was leaning up against a tree, waiting for her.

“Right on time, little one,” she smiled, showing row after row of razor sharp teeth. “Come closer.”

Dewey took two steps forward, fidgeting a little.

Ki swiftly pulled two large knives from a sheath in her boot, and held them up next to Dewey’s torso, sizing them up against the fae’s body. “These will both be a little too large for you, I’m afraid, but we will do our best, yes?”

Dewey nodded and took the smaller of the two knives.

“So timid! There is no need to be so afraid. Come. We must begin before the prey wakes up.”

Ki darted off, swift and surefooted as she ran along the mossy forest floor, easily scaling over boulders and noiselessly leaping onto tree branches, pausing only to inhale deeply, searching for the scent of blood.

Dewey did her best to keep up, flitting to and fro behind the huntress’ lithe movements, but bumbling slightly as she went. Where Ki was even and steady, Dewey was off kilter and hesitant. Ki’s movements were precise, measured, practiced; Dewey’s were stumbling. The dragon-blooded predator tripped the light fantastic, chasing their prey while Dewey just… tripped.

Finally, abruptly, Ki stopped. She held up a hand, forcing Dewey to fall in behind her, before pointing down at a pair of fat, beautiful rabbits, asleep in their burrow.

“It is time, little one,” she whispered to Dewey. “Strike fast and true.”

Dewey grasped her knife in her hand, a little slick with sweat and tried to steady her breathing. She circled, once, twice, and then struck, slamming the blade into the heart of the closest rabbit, startling the other awake.

The second rabbit shot from the burrow, fleeing into the hollow of a tree across the clearing and disappeared.

Dewey pulled the knife from the small, fluffy corpse in front of her. She’d thrust it in up to the hilt, drenching the side of her fist in a dark coating of rabbit blood, little bits of fur sticking to the quickly coagulating substance.

“Well done, little one!” Ki pounced down and snatched up the kill. “You should be proud of yourself!”

Dewey nodded, unblinking, and wiped the blood off of her hand onto the thick carpet of grass.

“You have provided a wonderful breakfast for us,” Ki reached out to give Dewey a small pat on the head. “Come, we will go back.”

Dewey sheathed the blade and followed close on Ki’s heels, trying to forget the ease with which the blade had entered the rabbit’s heart.

The pair were soon settled around a small fire, watching the rabbit turn on a spit, the morning’s fog still thick around them.

“Now, tell me, Dewey,” Ki’s face was serious as she spoke, “Are you still bothered by the creatures in the depths?”

The little bug glanced between Ki and the rabbit, skinned and crackling over the open flame, before shaking her head.

“I s’pose I shouldn’t be.”

Ki nodded. “Good. All things have their time, little one. We are all of us predator and prey. Do not forget this. You are as much a hunter and a killer as anything else in this plane.”

Dewey nodded again. “I’ll try to remember that.”

Ki reached out and plucked the rabbit from the fire, easily ripping meat from bone, handing a portion to Dewey.

“Be sure of it,” she said as she tore into her own, rarer portion. “It is the only way any of us can survive. It is the natural order. It is what keeps us strong.”


End file.
